


Second Wind

by galacticproportions



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, First Time, How could I have forgotten the rimming, Insecurity, M/M, OTP Schmoop, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Safer Sex, Second Time, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 06:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticproportions/pseuds/galacticproportions
Summary: Finn and Poe's second time, a few minutes after their first time.





	Second Wind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gloss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/gifts), [orchis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchis/gifts).



> I just wanted to slow everything down.
> 
> Thanks and love to gloss and orchis for cheerleading, insight, enduring love for these characters, and tender care for the writer. Being in this fandom with you continues to be a great joy.

Poe returned to himself slowly, with things like “vision” and “sensation in his extremities” and “the awareness that Finn was lying next to him again, radiating smugness” taking their time phasing back. The process was helped along by Finn rolling towards him and kissing his temple, right at the place where his hair sprung: a small focus of added dampness and warmth. He was coated in sweat, and so was Finn, and so were the sheets where they'd collapsed.

“Pretty good, huh?” Finn said, with a pride that would have been insufferable in anyone Poe was less into. For a fraction of a second, he debated being a brat about it, saying something like, “Eh,” or, “Getting there,” but he didn't have the cognitive capacity to hit just the right note and he didn't want to lower his standards.

Besides, it was rude to try to score a point on the person who just fucked his brains out and who was now kissing his neck, especially when that person was the person he'd been longing for. “Fantastic,” he said. “As if you didn't know.”

“I did figure. From the noises.”

“You're _impossible,_ ” Poe said, and then sucked in a breath— _stupid, Dameron—_ because that was supposed to be true, there wasn't supposed to be any such person as Finn, and he didn't want to remind Finn of that, somehow. But Finn didn't seem to hear it that way; he was back to nuzzling Poe's hair, saying, “I'm glad we did this.”

There were things Poe could have said if he was being how he usually was, in bed and in the field and in the cockpit. But Finn had him here, had him whole, and nothing suited Finn so well as the truth: “Me too.”

All that kissing on his face and neck was nice. He should return the favor. Probably he had enough coordination back to do that. Poe raised up on an elbow and got a good look at Finn stretched out beside him, undeniably and yet almost unbelievably. Light from the wall niche grazed the rounds of cheek and shoulder, leaving dips of shadow in eye socket and collarbone, outlining muscles already sharply defined in chest and belly. Poe's eyes skimmed downward with the light: Finn's pubes were glazed with lube and come and sweat, cock at rest, thighs apart, taking up space in the bed.

In a way, Poe supposed, neither of them should have been there. Were supposed to be there. The tide of losses and near-misses that was never far away rolled through him, leaving him with a renewed determination to be exactly where he was, to be as _here_ as possible, before BB-8's power-up protocols engaged at the end of the rest shift. They might have done this sooner if it hadn't been all wings up, all hands on deck, for nearly a tenday, and who could say when they'd get another chance?

Poe brought his gaze back up to Finn's face and kissed under his right eye because he couldn't stand not to. Then he kissed under the other eye, so that it wouldn't feel left out. _Left out, get it?_ he thought about saying, and then remembered that it might be too early in the whatever-this-was for him to say things like that and still expect Finn to want to have sex with him again and, also, he hadn't said any of the setup out loud. He kissed Finn on the mouth, and Finn kissed him back, soft and happy, then with a little more tongue and energy.

When they first got their clothes off, when Finn was leaning over Poe but before lowering his weight, he'd asked, “Okay?” and when he'd folded Poe's knees up and pressed into him slowly, the last slow part of the proceedings, he'd asked, “Good?” Not anxiously exactly, but not rhetorically either: like he didn't know the answer and wanted to know. Maybe it was a first time thing, as in _what do you like,_ or as in _what's okay with you,_ or as in _I don't know how to read you yet,_ but it was simultaneously tender and touching _and_ made Poe want to get to the day where Finn didn't have to ask anymore, when he knew what there was to know before he came along, when they could do the rest of their learning together.

It felt so strange to think about the future.

He arched back a little and met Finn's eyes, deliberately bent and kissed his neck, deliberately met his eyes again, checking. “Keep going?”

“Keep going,” Finn agreed, seemingly entertained, but also shifting his hips a little—minute, restless movements. Poe grinned and dipped his head again, licking sweat, sucking at the place where the muscle of Finn's chest went convex after its interlacing with his shoulder muscle. He took a deep sniff, and Finn said, sounding surprised, “Is that something you like?”

“How you smell? Yeah. You smell great.”

“Huh,” Finn said, filing it. Poe knew that tone, now, the one that meant _adding that to the dossier_. He loved it, even when Finn wasn't applying it to something about him. He thought about ways to show his appreciation while he kissed and sucked across and down.

When he was a kid, sometime after sex was something he knew about but before it was something he wanted to do, Poe would lie in bed in the morning and flick and tweak his nipples, fascinated by the way the flesh of them would gather and rise, slowly, like it had taken a notion to move but was in no particular hurry; he'd lick his thumb and let the cool air peak them. He thought about this now as he put in serious time on Finn's nipples, sucking hard and biting gently. The angle let Finn rub up into his belly with a little more intent, a little more activity, definite pressure.

Poe tightened his stomach and tried to sort of rub back, and Finn made a very satisfying sound, a kind of muffled groan, and got perceptibly harder.

Poe decided that, after all, he might like to be a little bit of a brat, and he pulled upward and away, rounding his spine to kiss Finn's neck and collarbone again. It was his turn to feel smug when Finn arched under him, chasing the contact, and then _sprung,_ so that his thighs were locked around Poe's hips, calves pressed to the backs of Poe's thighs, half-hard dick nudging against Poe's still-soft one. Finn's weight pulled them both back down to the mattress, where he lay very still with Poe wedged against him and smiled up.

“I can't move,” Poe pointed out, and leaned down for a kiss, which Finn supplied, at length. “That's true,” he said finally. “What do you want to do about it?”

“Kinda want to use my mouth on the rest of you. But, you know, I can't do that like this, I can just about reach here--” he sucked on Finn's neck until Finn was trying to simultaneously writhe against Poe and retain his grip. “The rest of me,” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Poe said. “I mean, I'd like to work my way to your dick eventually but there's a lot of, uh, terrain to cover and all of it is gorgeous, I mean, all of you is gorgeous, and I want to—I really just want to—”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “I'll let you go for that.” And just like that, his body relaxed, splaying under Poe like he was offering himself up. It was somehow even hotter than what he was doing before, and Poe half-rolled, half-slithered into a position where he could kiss Finn's stomach, tasting the dips and rises, the light and shadow he'd seen earlier. There was just the slightest fuzz of hair leading from Finn's navel down to his pubes; Poe licked that too, licked into the fragrant crease of belly and thigh, rubbed against Finn's cock with his own unshaven cheek.

Finn groaned and rolled against Poe's face, and Poe put a hand up to hold Finn's hip flat—just a suggestion. He had no way of keeping Finn anywhere that Finn didn't want to be, which made it all the more gratifying when Finn stayed put under the light pressure, responding to the very slight indication that this was where Poe wanted him.

Poe licked and kissed along one of Finn's thighs while he stroked the other one with his free hand. He felt dizzy and drunk and amazing. _I could bite him,_ he thought, and immediately could think of nothing else until he tried a cautious nip on the soft inside part of the thigh he’d been kissing before.

Finn _squeaked,_ and Poe spread a smile along the bite. “You want more of that or less?”

“Uh, _more,”_ Finn said, “you--mmh!” in response to a bigger, sharper bite this time, enough of a mouthful to let Poe shake his head and still retain his grip. Finn squirmed, and Poe went back to the kissing and licking before repositioning himself and turning to the other thigh for a while. Bilateral symmetry was _great._ Two thighs, two hands, two ass cheeks--he got his hands underneath and lifted and spread and breathed, first in, then a long exhale that made Finn shiver in his palms.

This time, neither of them said anything. Poe licked at, then into Finn’s hole until it was silky and yielding and spit was running down his chin. Finn seemed to have settled into a mumble that was half a moan, so Poe kept up what he was doing, but he couldn’t shake the knowledge that Finn’s dick was fully hard and extremely nearby, and after a last few licks he started to incrementally kiss his way back up. Finn had been relatively still for some time, other than a few downward presses to get more of Poe’s tongue, so it was a shock when his hand came down heavy and hard, pressing Poe’s face into the place where thigh and belly met.

“I just,” Finn panted, “just need a second, just stop for a second.”

Poe stopped. He _was stopped._ He couldn’t move and didn’t want to. His face was squashed, and he could barely get a trickle of Finn-scented air. This was hotter than anything he could ever have thought to describe.

It had to end, though: eventually the pressure on his head let up, and he stretched his neck to look into Finn’s face. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “All good, I just-- _fuck_.”

He was still breathing hard. Poe couldn’t have been happier--well, yes, he could. “‘Cause I was kinda hoping to do some of that dick-sucking I mentioned previously.”

“Or,” Finn said.

“Or?” Poe’s head was sort of half-pillowed, half-perched on the rise of Finn’s thigh. He could _almost_ have stuck out his tongue and reached the root of Finn’s shaft with the very tip, but he told himself he should at least listen to what the guy had to say, first.

“I thought maybe you could fuck me this time,” Finn said, in that same cautious way as before, like he didn’t want to presume he knew what the answer would be.

Full-color visions washed over the length of Poe’s body, but they didn’t settle anywhere. “ _Yeah,”_ he said, involuntarily, and then, “I want to. But I think it’s gonna be a while yet before I can.”

“Oh, okay,” Finn said, and Poe realized he didn’t know at all what he’d been expecting that had him already tensing, pulling away, because he didn’t want to be a _disappointment._ “Disappointed” was the opposite of the expression on Finn’s face right now, cheeks rounding and lips lifting into a small, lopsided, salacious smile. “What should we do till then?”

Before Poe could come up with a response, Finn added, “Maybe we can speed it up a little bit,” and shifted his weight, rolling Poe off his thigh and scrunching himself down the bed. Even that motion, one of humanoids’ least dignified, looked good on him. He rolled on top of Poe and kissed his lips lightly, noting, “Man, I need to hit the fresher,” and then proceeded to kiss Poe’s neck and grind--but slowly, very slowly--against his thigh.

It was a weird feeling, being increasingly turned on without getting hard about it. All the sensations seemed to hover, giving him time to enjoy without _needing,_ as Finn mouthed and pinched at Poe’s nipples and stroked his stomach, not touching his dick at all at first. They even took a break so that Poe could peek into the corridor, throw on a pair of drawers and go rinse out his mouth for makeout purposes. The mirror told him he had a massive case of sex hair, that his color was high, that his eyes wouldn’t focus enough to determine anything beyond that. When he got back to the bed, Finn was sitting up, naked and lovely, and put both arms around Poe's waist to pull him down.

“Kiss me now,” Finn said, bearing Poe all the way down to the mattress, so Poe lifted his face and kissed Finn for all he was worth. Kissing Finn was so good, good in itself and yet never enough and yet thrilling exactly because it was never enough, never enough of what his lips and Finn's, their tongues, graze of teeth, slide of spit, could do together. Between the kissing and the weight on him and the sharp, thoughtless little thrusts of Finn's hips, enjoyment edged into desire again and then rose into need.

Finn noticed almost as soon as Poe did himself, rubbed up on him with a little more purpose, and flipped them over again. “I want it like this,” he said. “I wanna look up at you.”

Poe's throat tightened. Their first fuck had had the heat and flow of a one-night stand, where you know you won't see the person again and so it doesn't matter how you show yourself to them. Finn's confidence had just been hot, then—it seemed like this had become simple for him all of a sudden, however it was for Poe, and that made it easy. Now it was something else besides: less simple, more fragile, closer. That sense stayed with him as he touched Finn inside for the first time, watched a single crease appearing in the velvet of Finn's forehead as he concentrated on the feeling.

Poe leaned down and kissed it, obviously, that was just natural. But that line—not the energy and athleticism of Round One, not the insta-recovery—also brought home to Poe that Finn was _young._ Competent and wise and brave and with adult desires—no need to feel like a creep about it, Poe told himself—but young, and trusting in a way that Poe wanted to be too. In a way that Finn seemed to be asking him for, just by being that way himself.

He could at least give Finn what he'd asked for out loud.

There was the habitual slowdown: one of the two condoms left in the pack, plenty of lube. Finn was so tight that Poe thought he might lose his vision, and only Finn's fingers digging in hard, pulling down, gave him the counterstimulus he needed to start moving. “Talk to me,” he managed, “tell me what's good or if I need to—”

“Just— _uh,”_ Finn moved against him, _around_ him, “that, do that,” so Poe did. Between the condom and having come not that long ago, he felt like he could go forever, fucking into Finn steadily, heavily. His deeper thrusts drew out a soft, “ _Yeah,”_ but otherwise Finn was silent, focused, feeling it, his eyes sometimes meeting Poe's for a second and sometimes swaying closed. It seemed like he, too, could go forever. It seemed like the two of them were caught in this, so that Poe felt almost panicked, even as pleasure washed over him again and again, distantly, evenly. He whispered to Finn, “Do you wanna come?”

“Poe,” Finn said, sounding exhausted.

“Do you?”

“Yeah—can I—”

 _Fuck._ “Finn,” he said, and came, less dramatically this time: a release, a feeling that all was well. Finn's eyes opened all the way at Poe's sudden, momentary stillness, and then he grinned, and Poe laughed, half a gasp, and Finn's answering laugh turned into a gasp too when Poe pulled out and took hold of him, worked the head of Finn's cock with his thumb, thought _what the hell_ and wriggled down the mattress to lick along the shaft until Finn shouted and shook and came too, half on his belly and half in Poe's hair.

The whole take-off-the-condom-right-away transport had launched, but Poe did the best he could with the mess, and Finn put an arm out for him to lie back down in.

“Got my mouth on your dick after all,” Poe said.

“You always complete your missions,” Finn said. “So I've heard.”

“With your help, I do.” Shit. Shit, _way_ too much, too sugary, gross, _damn_ it—Finn was actually pulling away a little, _fuck—_

But it was just to look at him, a grave considering look. “I'm sorry we took so long to do this,” Finn said. “I'm sorry if I acted weird. I feel like maybe I did.”

Poe had noticed it: the way, after their retreat from Crait, Finn always seemed to be catching himself, even when they were working well together. He hadn't _noticed_ that he was noticing it, but maybe it went some way toward explaining the attitude and the quipping and the sourness earlier, even though what was happening was what he'd been wanting. Maybe it wasn't just that he always had to have something to say. “A little,” he said now. “I figured you had a reason.”

“I guess. I'm still figuring out what it means, this--” he waved a perfectly shaped arm over the two of them, the bed—“but the other stuff too. I do _want_ to figure it out.”

“With me?”

“ _Yeah,_ with you. I wasn't sure at first, that's all.”

“So what did it take,” Poe said, “the rimming or the nipple stuff or—”

Finn frowned again, and this time Poe couldn't kiss it because it was obviously his fault. “Don't be dumb on purpose.”

That should have hurt more than it did. Poe was surprised, really, that it felt okay. That it felt like Finn knowing who Poe could be if he tried, or maybe who he could be if he stopped trying, depending on how you looked at it. And trusting Poe to hear him. “Okay,” he said. “I won't.” And then, because he was both a smartass _and_ honest and he felt like Finn should be clear on who he was dealing with, “As much.”

“Not as much is good,” Finn said, “we can work with that,” and kissed him.

 


End file.
